Black Sheep
by Brynn McK
Summary: Max meets her match in a mercenary. (How's that for alliteration?)
1. Prologue

Title:Black Sheep

Genre: Drama/Action-Adventure

Rating: again, PG-13 or R for language, depending on your sensitivity

Feedback: Yes please!Good or bad.Here or at [tmeyerswa@yahoo.com][1]

Disclaimer:Max, _Dark Angel, Fox, Cameron, Eglee.Jasen's all mine, though._

Spoilers:_Blah Blah, Woof Woof_

A/N:My first attempt at something with a real plot.I'm planning (though not promising!) drama, angst, humor, a bit of romance, and of course the requisite ass-kicking. A little like a real episode, though I wouldn't presume…Thanks to my boyfriend for the premise and beta-reading.And I swear I'm not ripping off Rinoa's idea--apparently we happened to have similar ideas at the same time; mine's a little different, though, so you all can hopefully enjoy both!

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"Have you got the data?"Lydecker's voice was clipped and professional, as always.

"Of course.You trained me well, sir."

"Good work, soldier.Meet at the rendezvous point in one hour."The phone was halfway to the hook when he thought he heard something impossible.He brought the phone back to his ear."What was that, soldier?"

"I said, I don't think that's really going to work for me."The man on the other end smiled.He had been waiting for this moment for a long, long time.

Lydecker was silent for a couple of seconds, completely at a loss.That response simply didn't compute."What the hell do you mean?" he managed, finally.

"I mean, _Deck," he responded, emphasizing his disrespect, "I don't much care for our arrangement here.It occurred to me the other day, while I was dangling from a rooftop, that you send me out on all of these top-secret missions, I put my ass on the line, and when I've scraped and skulked and gotten beat up to find whatever you sent me for, I come running back to you like a dog with a tennis ball.Meanwhile, you're sitting around smoking cigars and planning the next genetically enhanced generation.And I'm starting to wonder: what's in it for me?"_

"What's in it for you," Lydecker ground out, "is that I don't send a team of our best men to drag you back here and beat the living shit out of you until you can remember to follow orders.But you just forfeited that privilege."

"But Deck, you're forgetting—_I'm your best man."_

"You're good, soldier, but you're not that good."

He only laughed."We'll see.I'll be in touch."

As the sound of the dial tone rang in his ears, Lydecker stared at the receiver like it had just turned into a snake.When the hell had this happened?With a curse, he dialed another number and waited impatiently for an answer.

"Murdock here."

"Get your ass over here," Lydecker growled."We've got a situation here."

   [1]: mailto:tmeyerswa@yahoo.com



	2. Deal

A year later, Lydecker was still growling.He picked up the phone."Jasen?"

"Deck.Good to talk to you again.I've missed you, and I've been meaning to ask you--what kind of a nickname is 'Deck', anyway?Is it because your mother wanted to remember the night she conceived you with some passing sailor?Or is it because it sounds a lot like 'dick'?"

Two seconds on the phone with him and Lydecker was already fighting for control.It was a ridiculous lapse.Buttons that no one else could even find seemed to glow red-hot when Jasen was involved.He forced an iron wall down in front of his anger."Get to the point, Jasen."

Jasen laughed."I see you haven't acquired a sense of humor since our last little tea party.What a shame.I just thought you might be interested in a chat I overheard today between a couple of our brave men in blue."He'd actually been loitering in the same coffee shop for four weeks, keeping to the back, changing his appearance, hoping to overhear something.But Lydecker didn't need to know that.

Lydecker waited, but Jasen obviously wasn't going to continue until prompted.Ordinarily he might have used these dramatic pauses to trace the call, but they'd tried before, and failed.Their last search had resulted in a handful of highly-trained soldiers descending in force on a terrified goat.Closer inspection revealed a cellular phone strapped to the animal's stomach, being accessed by remote--not exactly one of Manticore's proudest moments.Other attempts to recapture Jasen had ended in similar embarrassments.He gritted his teeth.Patience.Control."And he said?"

"Well, they got to talking over a couple of cups of coffee, about the weather, the kids, the job.And one of them, a real stand-up guy named Jerry, mentioned that one of the toughest things about the job was sorting truth from lies when people are so willing to sell each other out for a few bucks.For example, a few months ago, you had the cops combing Seattle for a certain murder suspect.A young lady."

_Max.Despite his annoyance, Lydecker was suddenly listening very carefully."And?"_

"Well, these particular cops work in the same precinct as a detective Sung.During your search--which, may I say, was a glaring example of a good plan with sloppy execution--a man reported to Sung that he was the young lady's boss.And my pal Jerry overheard.He said he remembered the guy real clearly because he was spouting off all this crap about being a concerned citizen and everything, when Jerry could tell he was just in it for the money."Another pause.God, he loved his job sometimes.

Third time's a charm, Lydecker thought, his frustration building again.How had this kid's attitude slipped under the radar of their regular psych evals?He wished he could teach the rest of his kids to lie so well."And?"

"Anyway, Sung took him off to get his statement and by the time he'd sorted everything out, the real murderer had confessed and been taken into custody.And Jerry thought how unfair it was that this poor girl could have been thrown in jail by her boss for a few lousy bucks."His tone was mocking.

"And did he happen to remember the name of the place of employment?"Lydecker fought to keep the interest from his voice.

Nice try, little fish, Jasen thought, but we both know you're hooked.He laughed."C'mon, Don.That would be telling.Information can be a significant tactical advantage, right?"

"How much do you want for her?"

"Well, since I don't share Jerry's disdain for a few lousy bucks, and taking into advantage the challenge of the mission, the importance of the target…I'd say fifty large sounds reasonable.And, since she's part of a package deal, I'll give you a discount on the others--you know, your other kids who somehow manage to keep eluding you even though you're the one who trained them?I want fifty for her, and then forty for every one after her.Forty-five for Zack--he might be a challenge, too."

"That's bullshit, Jasen.We _made those kids for less than that.We made __you for less than that."_

"That's the price."

He should have known better, but he tried anyway."I can only swing thirty for her, and twenty for the others."

Suddenly the casual tone disappeared, and the voice turned to steel."Don't waste my time.I'm not selling aspirin on the street corner.I'm offering to deliver, on a silver platter, a valuable target you've been too inept to bring in even though she hasn't changed locations in months.You haven't got what it takes, Lydecker, and I do.So I name the price."

"And just what brilliant plan do you have that we haven't tried?"

"That's really none of your concern, is it?Quit fucking around.Have we got a deal or not?"

Lydecker hesitated.No matter how many times he did it, the idea of paying this man for tasks he ought to perform willingly--gratefully--galled him.Still, he reflected, the plan did have its advantages.Of all the soldiers he'd ever trained, Jasen was the most likely to be a match for Max.In fact, he realized, there was a good chance Manticore would come out of this a winner even if Jasen failed.He'd find her, Lydecker had no doubt of that.Combat would inevitably follow.Combat which would most likely leave one or both of them wounded, at the very least.And when they were weakened, his men would be there.To pick up the pieces.The more he thought about it, the more he liked it.For the first time since Jasen's desertion, the thought of his AWOL soldier made him smile.But he schooled his face into seriousness, his tone into barely-repressed rage."I want her alive."

"Of course."

"You'll give us the account number to deposit the funds?"

"I'll be in touch.A pleasure doing business with you.Later, Deck."

Lydecker didn't even notice the dial tone as he gripped the receiver like he wanted to throttle it… and smiled.

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Up next: Chapter 3, "Skirmish"

How's it going so far?Comments/criticisms?Please let me know! 


	3. Skirmish

"And just where do you think you're going?You're on the clock for five more minutes,"Normal snapped as Max made her way towards the door.

She stopped, fixed him with an icy glare.After the day she'd had, she was just looking for a target."Bill me."

"You know, that's exactly the kind of attitude that keeps you from getting ahead in this world, Max--" he began, preparing for full lecture mode.

"So you mean if I had an attitude like yours I could aspire to running a bike messenger service that no one's ever heard of, full of employees who have no respect for me?Gee, Normal, you're really turning me around on this one.I'd better go home and think about the consequences of my actions."

"I want to see you here five minutes early in the morning, missy!" he yelled after her.Max waved him off with a hand, her brain already jumping ahead to how she might salvage a day that had included three deliveries to unknown addresses, two run-ins with the sector police, so many whistles and catcalls that she'd lost count, and one proposal of marriage.From a guy who smelled like he'd been curled up around a dead fish for a week or so.Another four-star day as a Jam Pony employee.Maybe she'd sweet-talk Logan into whipping up a gourmet meal while she took a long, hot bath in that huge bathtub of his.The Eyes Only gig was worth it just to have access to that bathtub.The thought made her sigh in anticipation—she could almost feel her hair curling in the steam, muscles relaxing, skin wrinkling…

The second she came through the doorway under the grey Seattle sky, Max's system went on full alert.Someone was watching her.Casually, carefully, she took stock of her surroundings—a half-glance here, extended stare there.And zeroed in like a laser-sight on a man leaning against a long-useless lamppost across the street.She took stock of him in parts, never lingering long as she pretended to be occupied with the small tasks of a girl getting ready to go home after a long day of work.Dark hair, cut short.6'2".Wiry build.Her age, maybe a little younger.He was staring at her openly.What the hell was his deal?Some sicko-psycho looking to score with a bike messenger?How pathetic was that?

There was no earthly reason why he should have made her nervous, but she couldn't get the hairs on the back of her neck to lie down.Get it together, Max, she told herself firmly, you've flattened guys twice his weight.Testing, she began walking her bike down the street.He followed, never taking his eyes off her, his mouth now fixed in an insolent grin.She could hear his footsteps behind her, pacing her.The cherry on top of the big, fat banana split of her bad day.All right, asshole, she thought.Too bad for you you're creeping out the wrong girl.

Figuring she'd better get away from Jam Pony before she turned this idiot into a whimpering, groin-clutching ball of pervert, she walked a few more blocks before turning casually into an alley.As soon as she came around the corner, she leaned her bike silently against the wall, jumped six feet to a nearby fire escape, and swung herself up.She crouched, waiting.The footsteps came nearer.She grinned in anticipation.She'd heard all the stress-reducing techniques--aromatherapy, reflexology, massage, meditation--but even a hot bath and a good meal paled in comparison to a good, clean ass-kicking.And if she could strike a blow for womankind at the same time, well, even better.Maybe there was some hope for this day after all.

The dark head came around the corner, unsuspecting.The man stopped and looked around, almost comical in his confusion.Muscles tensed, and she sprang with feline grace, striking soundlessly.Her knee angled to plant firmly in his groin or his neck, whichever presented itself first--she wasn't picky.

At least, that was the plan.But something went wrong.

She was watching him as she fell, could have sworn he was right underneath her, clueless--only she suddenly found herself landing hard on the ground, knees bent to absorb impact and preserve balance.But balance shortly became out of the question as his leg shot out from a sideways crouch, sweeping her knees out from under her, too quick for her to compensate.She landed flat on her back, staring at his grin above her, his forearm across her throat, knees pinning her legs.For half a second she was so surprised at the unexpected resistance that even instinct was suppressed and she stayed motionless, mental wheels spinning.

"No yield," he whispered, grin wide and mirthless, blue eyes flashing.

_Six-year-old Maxie, flat on her back in the training room, a muscle-bound ex-Marine looming above her.Eyes huge, heart pounding.His hand is on her neck, squeezing, squeezing.The world begins to spin.Dimly, she hears him shouting at her: "Do you yield?Do you yield, soldier?__" She nods frantically, desperate for air.His mouth twists in more grimace than smile, satisfied.He leans down so his voice is hot in her ear: "There is no yield."__His fist descends like a hammer, knocking her into blackness.She awakens later, bruised and bloody from blows before and after she lost consciousness.And from that moment on, she knows there is no mercy, here or anywhere._

Trying to blink away the memory, Max watched his eyes harden at the flash of fear in hers, the six-year-old from another life._Oh, shit, she thought, her stomach cold with dread.__This guy's Manticore._

Her thoughts were easy to read.He nodded once, slowly, enjoying her shock.Max shook herself mentally, forced her brain and body to concentrate on defense.There was only one of him, after all.As usual, attitude came swiftly on the heels of fear.She raised an eyebrow at him, smiling sweetly."Yield?"she replied."Never even crossed my mind."

He laughed."Good."And, to her surprise, rolled off her and adopted a fighting stance a couple of feet away from her, knees bent, feet planted, fists raised."Come on, then.Let's see what you've got."

As soon as his weight lifted off of her, Max was rolling to her feet, matching his stance.His mocking challenge fired her blood._All right, now I'm pissed.She all but bared her teeth at him as they circled each other warily.Feint, duck, counterattack with backhand, block, fall away.Circle, waiting, watching, gauging.She lashed out, lightning-fast, fist a blur, only to have it caught by his hand and be pulled toward him, swing desperately to the side to avoid a knee in her stomach that she barely saw coming.Fall back, circle.__Damn, he's fast, she realized.How could anyone be so fast?Her muscles were taut, primed, poised in a way they hadn't been since the night she'd escaped Manticore.Enhanced senses strained for the slightest change in sight, sound, smell.This was a threat, and this was for real.Fear mingled with exhilaration.And some tiny corner of her mind whispered, __Finally._

She told it firmly to shut up as he launched himself at her, full-on attack.Body moved faster than brain in a blinding series of attacks and counterattacks, defenses and ploys.But no matter how fast she moved, he was always there, waiting, blocking, forcing her to scramble to defend herself.It took everything she had just to keep the fight even, so much that it took her a full thirty seconds to realize they were going through the motions of a Manticore training pattern of attack and counterattack.He laughed.She snarled, and threw in a twist and a backfist, a little move she'd learned from Bling.Felt the satisfying shock to her arm as she connected with his face for the first time.

"There it is," he panted.She would have asked him what the fuck he was talking about, but she was too busy defending herself.They were in uncharted territory now, moving so fast in the dimness of the alley that they almost seemed to be one person, stretching and rolling in fluid dance, never losing contact.Max's muscles were beginning to burn.Finally, her response was one hundredth of a second too late, and his fist connected with her head like granite.As she fought to maintain consciousness, Max noticed a glint of metal on his fingers.Brass knuckles.When the hell had he put those on?

Her vision grayed to black as he struck again.Hearing was on its way out, too, but not before she heard him whisper: "Sorry, Maxie.Gotta blaze.I'll be in touch."_Oh, shit, Max thought weakly, as his mocking laugh followed her into darkness._

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up next: "Safe House"—the appearance of Logan and maybe even a shipper moment or two!


	4. Safe House

A knock on the door roused Max from a momentary reverie._Damn! she admonished herself as she snapped back to full alert.__Use your head, Max, this is the worst time to get sloppy.But the fact was, she was exhausted, and she couldn't remember any time in the recent past when she'd hurt so much.Not since Manticore.Maybe she was getting soft.Pushing the thought firmly from her mind, she went to the window of the tiny Vancouver motel room, slid the curtains aside the tiniest fraction of an inch.And swore.Violently._

Still muttering, she slid free the chain lock and opened the door, keeping herself behind it, out of sight, still on guard.As soon as he was inside, she slammed the door again and shot the bolt home.

"Dammit, Logan!I told you not to come here!"

Logan had spent the last few hours working out a careful speech of excuses, filled with logic and reason and plain good sense, which she would undoubtedly argue with until he worked her around to his point of view.But all his laboriously chosen words flew entirely out of his head when he saw her.She looked… well… as much as he hated to apply the term to Max, she looked like shit.Her face was swollen on the right side, marked with a rainbow of colors that ranged from angry purple to sickly yellow.Blood was still crusted on her split lip.And though she could never entirely lose her feline grace, she moved gingerly, like every muscle hurt.A lot.The rush of shock, concern, and violent anger tangled his tongue so that he could only stare.

"He could have followed me, Logan!He could have followed you!I don't know how much he knows, and I'm certainly not in a position to be handing him information that he could use against me!I don't care if you--"She stopped suddenly, tirade derailed.How could she shout at him when he was looking at her with such naked concern and confusion in those eyes?He'd certainly earned himself a blistering lecture on the intricacies of conduct when in potentially hostile territory, but she was too damn tired to deliver it.Besides, he was here already, what could she do about it?

"Max."Just that one word, her name, breathed in stunned disbelief into the silence, undid her.She let her breath out in a rush.

"I know, I know.I shouldn't have gotten you involved, but I needed to get out of there fast, and you're the only person I know who just happens to have safe houses dotted across the globe.I certainly never thought I'd be one of Eyes Only's refugees from tyranny," she added with a wry smile.

"How did you get here?Cindy said your Ninja was still in the apartment."

"I took the bus.Buses, actually.Seven of them, to be exact, in a bunch of different directions.If he was following me, he got a hell of a tour of the northwest."

"Max--"He started to reach for her, to comfort her, and stopped short when she held up a rigid hand.

"No.Please."Her voice was hard.If he touched her now, when her defenses were down and she was caught between fury and relief at his presence, she'd break.And she couldn't afford to break.

"All right."Keeping the words quiet, he relentlessly squashed a small sliver of hurt at the rejection.He'd dealt with enough people who were fighting for their lives to know when someone was on the edge.He'd just never expected to see Max there."Who is this guy?"

Max began to pace, restless, telling herself she was working out the stiffness in her muscles."I'm not sure.He's Manticore, I know that."She turned back to Logan, and he could see the mingled fear and curiosity in her eyes."But Logan, he's not like anyone I ever knew from there.He's so fast, I can barely keep up with him.He's stronger, too, and he's had the same training--he anticipates what I'm going to do."She trailed off, re-living the fight in her mind, trying to find a moment where she might have gained the upper hand.

Watching her, now that the first slap of shock had faded, Logan realized she was struggling with a strange mixture of terror and excitement.He'd never seen her look so alert, so aware.He could practically feel energy crackling from her nerve endings, senses straining to the limits of their enhancement.Her movements were sharp, economical, and near feral.For the first time since he'd met her, he was overwhelmed by the fact that she was not quite human.

"What does he want?" he asked her, pulling her back to the present.

She slumped to the bed with a sigh."No clue.If he'd wanted me dead, I would be.Besides, if he's still working for Manticore, my guess is Don would be pretty pissed off if he found out his little pets weren't playing nice together.So I doubt that's it.The only thing I can figure is that he's supposed to bring me back in, but he could have done that, too.I can't figure out why he didn't."After a moment, she forced herself to say what she'd been avoiding."I think he might be from a higher class."

"A later group of experiments?I didn't know there were any."

"I didn't either--kind of figured we were their star attraction.But it makes sense.The age is about right, and there were hundreds of rooms on the base.We were usually too busy trying to keep our asses in one piece to do much exploring.They could have been raising circus animals for all we knew.The only reason my group turned up on your radar is that we escaped."She laughed, short and brittle and bitter."The almighty X-5s no longer ruling the roost.Zack's gonna be so upset."She paused, then met Logan's eyes."That's the other thing.If this guy's looking for me, he might be looking for them, too.That's why this has to end now.With me."

Logan shoved down words of comfort, knowing this wasn't the time, wasn't what she needed.Yanking himself back to the task at hand, he set his face determinedly."So what's the plan?"

"I stay here tonight.Try to get some rest.Back to Seattle in the morning--I want him to see me there.Hopefully it'll confuse him.After that, I'm playing it by ear."

"Then I'll stay, too.No," he continued, barreling over her protests, "it makes sense.You're exhausted, Max, and you're operating on adrenaline and attitude.You need sleep.I've got five very well-trained guards posted in this area--if there's one thing I know how to do, it's set up a safe house."

"If it's so well-guarded, then you don't need to stay."

"It's my job to make sure you get some sleep.I'll read you bedtime stories, tuck you in.You know."He grinned at her for a second, relieved when she was too tired to do anything but grin back.

"Right.Just what every girl needs after a hard day of having her entire world-view rearranged," she replied sarcastically.

Then he sobered, pinned her with a heated look."And I'll watch your back," he added quietly.

Her eyes slid away as she laughed a little, uncomfortable."All right, all right."Anything to get him to stop looking at her that way._This is so completely not__ the time, Max, she told herself roughly.She tried one last time, more to change the subject than anything else."And what are you going to do if he gets past your well-trained guards and your transgenic killing machine is occupied with visions of sugarplums?"_

He was glad he had her off-guard enough that she didn't notice that the same thought had occurred to him, and he was less-than-satisfied with the answer.He summoned bravado to cover."I think I can handle it," he told her, pulling the gun from his pocket and resting it on his lap.Truth was, if this guy was as good as Max said he was, Logan wasn't at all sure the gun would be enough.But he didn't care. He was tired of being afraid, and he wanted to be with her.It made absolutely no tactical sense, and he might seriously regret it later, but he'd heard the fear in her voice, and he couldn't leave her.

"OK, Logan, I give up.It's your ass."She sighed and buried her head in her hands.Truth was, she knew she'd sleep better with him there.She didn't do the solitary soldier thing as well as she used to; she'd been too long outside.She wasn't sure that was a bad thing.Besides, the chances were slim that she might have been followed—at least, not without her knowledge.And if she'd never forgive herself if something happened to him, well, she'd just have to make sure it didn't. 

Logan watched the top of her dark head for a moment, wondering what she was thinking.After a few seconds, he offered, "Hungry?"

He couldn't help but smile at the way her head snapped up.Some things never changed."I've got some food in the car," he continued.

"You do?"She looked like he'd just offered her Lydecker's head on a platter.

"Of course.What kind of a meal ticket would I be if I didn't provide the meals?"

She fell back on the bed, arm over her eyes."You brought food."Her laugh had a slightly hysterical tinge to it, but he figured she had to let out tension somewhere."Oh, Logan.My hero."

_Hardly, he reflected with a twinge of self-pity, but forced a laugh.He'd deal with his inadequacy issues later."Don't go anywhere.I'll be right back."_

Later, food demolished and wounds tended, she laid down on the bed and closed her eyes.He settled himself in the chair next to her, gun on his lap, bedside light on, preparing himself for the long night ahead.He trusted the guards, but he wanted to stay watchful anyway.Just in case.

He watched her, the bruises already beginning to fade, dark curls tumbled, dark lashes motionless against her cheeks.He knew how it felt to have a lifetime's self-assurance undermined in one blow.The doubt, the uncertainty.The difference between them was that she was made for this, and something in her thrilled to the challenge.The chance to test her skills against an opponent worthy of them.It was more than he could give her, sending her up against petty criminals and hired thugs.And then he stopped thinking, and just watched, the steady rhythm of her back as she breathed.

He thought she'd fallen asleep, almost jumped when he heard her voice, quiet in the dimness."Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared."

It wasn't the admission, but the surprise in her voice that caught him off-guard.The simple honesty broke his heart.He was filled with a wild desire to slay a dragon for her--something, anything.But she needed no help from him."I know."

"I'd forgotten what it was like."A pause."It sucks."

His smile was half-sad, half-amused.What a woman."I know."

She opened her eyes, rolled over a bit to look at him."Thanks."

"You're welcome."Daring greatly, he reached over and touched her hair, gentle to avoid bruises.

She turned her back to him again, snuggled into the covers like a cat."You still shouldn't be here, though."

He chuckled, hand still on her hair."Go to sleep, Max."

"I'm just saying--"

"Go to sleep."

She did.Smiling.

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All right, shippers, that was for you!Now back to the murder and mayhem.Comments/criticisms very welcome!Please!And thanks for all the nice reviews so far…It's very encouraging.


	5. Tete-a-tete

Max stared through the glass of milk in front of her, to all outward appearances lost in thought.Only a trained observer could have detected the latent energy coiled in her muscles, the way she never missed a customer who came in and yet never seemed to look at any of them. The vulnerability of the previous day had vanished with the night's sleep; she woke up with bruises well on their way to healing and armor fully intact.Time for action.So when Logan offered to drive her back to Seattle, she flatly refused and wouldn't be persuaded otherwise.It probably wouldn't have been safe for her anyway, she reflected--Logan had looked completely exhausted, and she didn't want to disappoint her mysterious foe by getting killed on the way back because Logan fell asleep at the wheel.She had to admit, he'd impressed her.She'd half-expected him to nod off a couple of hours into his vigil, but she'd awakened twice during the night, unused to such long periods of sleep, and both times he'd been awake, gun near to hand, and had talked quietly with her until she fell asleep again.He'd offered support, and she'd been just emotionally and physically battered enough to accept, to lean just the tiniest amount.

The next morning, though, was a different matter.Everything seemed different in the daylight.Defenses repaired, she was done leaning and ready to rock.She ruthlessly ignored what felt suspiciously like morning-after syndrome--it wasn't like she'd slept with him or something--and insisted that Logan stay and get some rest.He'd protested, but he was too tired to put his heart into it; she'd barely managed a brusque "thank you" before he was stretched out and snoring.She'd resisted a ridiculous urge to watch him sleep and caught the next bus back to Seattle.

So now she was waiting.She'd made use of the bus ride to devise several plans of attack, but all of them hinged on direct confrontation with her opponent.Since she had no idea of who or where he was, that meant waiting for him to make contact.She called in sick to work--the best part of her day so far, involving a performance which would undoubtedly have earned her an Academy Award had there been such a thing anymore--and had been wandering the streets for the past few hours, in and out of coffee shops and restaurants, trying to stay visible.Now she was just hoping he'd show up before he cost her a week's grocery money in glasses of milk.

She wasn't disappointed.She hadn't been sitting in the coffee shop for more than half an hour when he strolled casually through the door and made his way to her table.

"This seat taken?" he asked, flashing a grin which she supposed might have been charming if she hadn't been so tempted to rip it off his face.

"I was saving it for the biggest scumbag who walked in here.So I guess it's all yours," she replied, batting long eyelashes.

He laughed and sat down across from her."Come on, Max.You don't even know me."

"You're Manticore--I think I can pretty much fill in the blanks from there."

The waitress approached, petite and bored."Get you something?" she asked him.

He turned his grin on her."Coffee.Fresh ground."

Her eyes widened."It's twenty dollars."

"Bigger tip for you, then, isn't it?"He pulled out a battered wallet and flashed a bill at her."Come on, I'm good for it."

"Be a few minutes."Shaking her head, she moved away.

Watching Max's eyes flash, he couldn't help but admire her.She'd impressed him with her combat skills the day before--she was nearly as good as he was--and even more when she managed to give him the slip afterwards.Well, after she'd regained consciousness anyway.Not that he'd really tried to chase her; he'd been waiting for this confrontation a long time, and he had no reason to rush it.But still, he'd gotten bored during the night and done some checking around, and the trail got cold after a couple of bus depots--he wasn't sure he could have found her even if he'd wanted to.It was refreshing.

She was still glaring at him."You've got it all wrong, Max," he told her."I'm not Manticore.Well, not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I was.But then I quit."

She snorted."When I was there, they weren't exactly offering retirement packages."

"Well, no.I stuck around till I felt like I'd learned all I was going to, and then, when they sent me out on a mission, I just didn't come back."

"And they just let you go?"

"No."Blue eyes lit gleefully."They didn't have a choice.They couldn't catch me.See, that's where you X-5s screwed up.You ran out too soon.Manticore's got a lot to offer, if you don't get too caught up in the whole military thing."

"I've heard the recruitment speech, thanks.And the 'whole military thing' is pretty tough to ignore when you're having it shoved down your throat 24-7."

He leaned forward and met her eyes intently, suddenly serious."It's just a matter of discipline.I took what I wanted, resisted what I didn't, and when I was done, I walked out and never looked back.They didn't use me--I used them."

Max was appalled to discover a tiny shred of admiration dangling on the edges of her anger.She took refuge in sarcasm, keeping her voice harsh."How inspiring.So what did they call you?X-6?X-7?Or did you get a special letter?"

He relaxed again, intensity gone."X-7.The X-6es didn't work out too well.Remember that explosion on the base back in '07?"

"That was them?"

"Yep.Tried to escape and torched themselves in the process.Deck's really not too good at keeping his little projects in line, have you noticed that?"

She smiled before she could stop herself."Once or twice.Are there more in your class?"

He shrugged."Don't know.I was trained to be a solo operative—one of the main differences between X-5s and X-7s.That and a few other things."

"Such as?"

"Panther DNA instead of cat.Stronger, lighter bone structure.Enhanced reflexes."

He was smiling that slow smile again, and Max knew that he meant to insult her by volunteering so much information.It was his way of telling her he didn't perceive her as much of a threat.Her temper started to kindle again, but she locked it away.Just as well if he underestimated her; she would use this to her advantage, gain what she could."So what do you want with me?"

"Well, you know as well as I do that Lydecker gets worried when his kids aren't home by curfew.I volunteered to chaperone, make sure you got back all right.You're a few years late, but I'm sure he'll forgive you… eventually."

Max's stomach turned.He'd been there, and he'd gotten out—and he was still willing to drag another person back to that torture?How was that possible?She forced her expression to remain calm."What's in it for you?"

"Money.Lots of it."He watched her, gauging her reaction, pleased when she didn't so much as twitch an eyelash.He knew she had to be furious, and his admiration kicked up another notch.Time for the next stage."Of course, if you made it profitable enough, I might consider other options."

"OK, you stay here while I go search my couch cushions for loose change." Her voice oozed sarcasm.

"That's not what I mean.You ever wonder why Lydecker wants you so much?Why he risked letting Zack escape just to get a crack at you?"

Max blinked at the abrupt topic change.Her first thought was that she'd been right, and he knew about Zack, and probably the others too—the threat had to be neutralized immediately.But his question sent an imperceptible shiver through her.She'd suspected that Lydecker had his eye on her for some reason; to have it confirmed was more than a little unsettling.But she wasn't about to let him see that."I always thought it was my stunning good looks and debonair charm," she responded coolly. 

He laughed."Nope.It's the same reason he wants me so badly."

"I'm an asshole?"

He reached under the table to where her forearm rested on her leg, squeezed hard enough to stop the blood flow."I'm serious, Max.You and I have something in common.Think about it: Zack was the leader of your unit.You were just the XO.Why would you be more valuable to Lydecker than he is?"

"I couldn't tell you—I'm hardly the good little soldier Zack is."

He nodded once, slowly."Exactly."When she refused to bite, he went on."You and I, Max, we've stayed ahead of Lydecker this long because of one thing: unpredictability.You should have left Seattle a dozen times by now, but you stick around.And every time Lydecker gets close and you escape, he has to spend a couple of months looking for you in Canada and Mexico before he realizes that you never left.He can't control you, can't predict your movements by thinking of what he'd do in your place.And he can't assume that you'll do the opposite of what he'd do, because you follow your training just often enough to confuse him.It's the perfect defense, and it's why he'll never catch us."

"Us?Is this the part where you tell me you're my father and ask me to rule the universe with you?"She never knew when one of Sketchy's and Original Cindy's lectures in pre-Pulse pop culture was going to come in handy.

He'd watched enough TV in out-of-the-way motel rooms to catch the reference, and laughed."Don't tell me you're really satisfied being a bike messenger.Come on, Max.I make a hell of a lot of money at this—you'd be surprised at just how high the highest bidders go.Don't you want a _challenge_ sometimes?"

"I thought you were trained to be a solo operative."

He shrugged."I could make an exception… for the right partner."

She looked him up and down, appraising, dark hair to dark boots."What's your name?" she asked him.

He loosened his grip on her arm, lips curving slowly, eyes locked on hers."Jasen."

She leaned forward, lowering her voice to a sultry whisper."Well, Jasen, I'll tell you.I do like a good challenge now and then."Her hand shot under the table, gripping his where it still rested on her forearm and twisting.He gritted his teeth against the sudden pain in his wrist and elbow, still grinning as she continued."But no challenge is worth being a whore for Manticore."

Just then, the waitress sauntered up with Jasen's coffee.The latent violence crackling around the table was strong enough to push at the edges of her indifference as she approached, making her nervous.She shifted her feet uncomfortably as she plunked the coffee down in front of Jasen, knowing something was going on even though she had no idea what it was.In her awkwardness, she accidentally offered a full sentence."Can I get you anything else?" she asked, praying he'd say no.

"We're doing just fine here," he replied, his eyes never leaving Max's.

"Let me know when you're ready for your check," she managed, and backed away, relieved.

Max released his hand and sat back, satisfied with her momentary success in their little pissing match.The display was over; time to get down to business."So I assume your plan B is to kick my ass and drag me back to Manticore."

He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of massaging his wrist, just as she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of inspecting her forearm for bruises.They were so much alike, he mused.What a shame she'd acquired a conscience somewhere."Pretty much.But I figure I'll give you a fighting chance."

"Meaning what?"

"You know the warehouse down on Pier 64?"

She nodded.It had once been a staging ground for exporting computer components, deserted since the Pulse.

"Meet there tonight.Twenty-three hundred."

"A duel to the death?_Mono e mono_?"She was mocking him, but her adrenaline started to flow again, nervous excitement.A straight-up fight was probably as even as the odds were going to get.To seal the deal, she pushed a button deliberately."Isn't that tactically unsound?"

"That's what's so great about it."His habitual grin reappeared."I like a challenge, too."

Her answering smile was feral."I'll be there."

He nodded, rose, tossed several bills on the table."This ought to pay for the mug, too."He picked up his coffee, obviously intending to carry it out with him.No one challenged him."The milk's on me—I want you rested up for tonight.And no weapons.Honor among thieves."

The idea of honor in someone who'd betray her to Manticore was laughable—but she'd play along."I wasn't the one with the brass knuckles last time."

He laughed."You can consider those a compliment.See you tonight, Max."

"Wouldn't miss it."

She kept staring out the window long after he'd disappeared down the street.

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I'm not overjoyed about this part—it doesn't seem to flow very well to me—but I'm not sure how to fix it, so any suggestions are welcome.Too dialogue-heavy?Too expository?Please keep the reviews coming, and thanks for all the ones so far!


	6. Preparations

            Logan picked up the phone on the second ring.  "Hello?"

            "Morning, Sleeping Beauty."

            He grinned.  "Max.  Where are you?"

            "Back in town.  Listen, I need you to do me a favor."

            "Look for any information I can on this guy who's after you?  What do you think I've been doing since I got back into town?"

            "Am I that predictable?  The thing is, I need it fast, Lo--" she started to say his name, stopped herself barely in time.  She had no way of knowing who was listening.  "I need it fast," she finished.

            He kept his tone light, but the edge in her voice worried him.  "Something happen I should know about?"

            "I just have an appointment tonight."  She gripped the cord of the pay phone, waiting for the explosion.

            Logan went cold.  He'd expected to have more time.  He tried to make his voice casual.  "Tonight?  That was quick."

            "Might as well get it over with."  He was taking it pretty well, she mused.  She almost wished he'd yelled at her, she could've let loose some of this tension.  "I've got some stuff that might help you track him down."

            "He found you, I take it?"

            She shrugged.  "I wanted to be found.  You'll be happy to know it was more civilized this time--not much chest-thumping and not a single punch thrown."

"Saving it up for tonight?" he asked shortly.

"Had a nice chat with him," Max continued, deliberately ignoring Logan's question.  "He's a little behind on his snappy comebacks, but not too bad."

"Do they teach you that at Manticore?  Witty Repartee 101?"

"Right in between Tactics and Hand-to-Hand," Max grinned, pleased that she'd effectively sidetracked him.  "He even asked me to join up with him and take our act on the road."

"Oh, yeah?"  _That was interesting._  "What'd you tell him?"

"Come on."  She almost said his name again, swallowed it.  "I may have a soft spot for the almighty buck, but a girl's gotta have standards."

He'd been 99 percent sure, but he still found himself letting out the breath he'd been holding.  He had to keep reminding himself that although Max might live by a different moral code than he did, that didn't mean she didn't have one.  A fact which she would probably go to her grave denying.  "So he's a mercenary?"

"I guess."  She quickly related the information that Jasen had volunteered about himself--differences in DNA, his training, his class number, his escape.  "Didn't get a number or anything, but his name's Jasen."

"Thanks, that'll help.  I haven't turned up much so far."

She tried not to be disappointed.  _Come on, Max, you shouldn't be dragging him into this anyway._  "You sure I'm not keeping you from saving the world or something?"

Her attempt at humor failed miserably.  Logan couldn't keep the anger from his response.  "If you don't know by now that this is more important, then you don't know me."

She blinked, surprised.  A hundred defensive protests bubbled to the surface--all the times he'd put Eyes Only ahead of her--but she knew even as they came to her tongue that the stakes had never been this high before.  She remained silent, speechless, confused.  Then she shook herself mentally.  _This isn't the time, soldier._  Get through tonight, then you can deal with it.  She clapped a lid on the emotions swirling in her gut, closed her eyes and took a deep breath to clear her head.  On the other end, she heard Logan sigh.

"So what's the plan?"  She could practically hear him rein in his own emotions.

"I've got some things to check out," she replied, grateful for the change in subject.  "I'll contact you again later, see if you've found anything."

"How long do I have?"

She checked her watch.  "Showtime in six hours.  I'll contact you in five."

"By phone?"  He tried to keep his voice clipped and businesslike, Eyes Only making the necessary arrangements.  Certainly not Logan wondering if he'd ever see Max again.

"I have to."  She was surprised to hear the pleading edge in her voice, couldn't stop it.  "I can't--"

"Take the chance," he finished with her.  "I understand."

Silence weighed heavy, both of them unwilling to end the call and unwilling to admit it.  Finally, Logan forced out, "Do what you need to do.  I'll find what I can."

"All right."  She paused.  "Thanks."

"Be careful."  It slipped out before he could stop it.

Her smile had a twist of sadness to it.  "Talk to you soon."  She hung up the phone, rested her head for a moment against the side of the booth.  Then, taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and strode purposefully towards the pier.

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            A block down, perched on the top of a four-story building, Jasen crouched, watching her go.  She'd been smart enough to choose one of the few pay phones truly out in the open, preventing him from getting close enough to hear her without being seen.  He'd caught a few words by reading her lips when she turned towards him, but hadn't been able to make much sense of it.  Still, watching the tension go in and out of her body during the conversation had been fascinating.  She'd made friends here, that much was obvious—no mere acquaintance or contact could elicit that kind of emotional response.  He filed that away for future reference.

            Watching her smile and shift and stiffen and look confused with the twists of the conversation, he almost envied her.  He hadn't made many friends in the two years he'd been away from Manticore.  Hadn't made _any, to tell the truth._  He'd been trained extensively on making superficial contacts--people tended to respond to him immediately, his easy smile and ready wit.  The scientists at Manticore had done thorough research on making a good first impression.  But he'd never been slated for deep-cover work, so anything past the initial contact was superfluous to his training.  Besides, beating the shit out of someone--which he was frequently required to do--tended to put a damper on your relationship.  He hadn't had the benefit of siblings, either, and it all conspired to make friendship a strange and incomprehensible beast which he studied with fascination.

            So he'd asked Max to team up with him, even though he knew from the way her eyes sparked at him that she'd say no, and that nothing would change her mind.  There was too much hate there for Manticore, and he enjoyed throwing his training in Lydecker's face too much to give up working for them.  Still, he reflected, it might have been interesting, for a while anyway.  He'd made it out of Manticore relatively unscathed by throwing up iron walls, locking the essence of himself away in a tiny corner of his brain, forming no attachments.  Years later, when Lydecker taught him his famed technique for forced memory loss like he was imparting some deathless wisdom, Jasen had recognized the similarities.  Same idea, taken to the limit.

            After he'd left, though, he'd found those walls tougher to tear down than he'd anticipated.  For a while, he'd dedicated himself to it, flirting and drinking beer and playing darts in every bar in Denver, going home to the same apartment every night for four months.  But he couldn't seem to get past that initial, casual contact, and finally he ran out of money and had to take a job, and having dinner parties and cocktails just seemed a little ludicrous when he was killing and stealing at night.

            It was the first time he'd ever failed at something he put his mind to, and it irked him.

            He'd been taught that problems were best solved by a careful analysis leading to a coherent plan.  It was one of the aspects of his Manticore training that actually made sense to him, so he'd chewed his failure over and over during hundreds of dark nights, trying to see it from every angle.  It wasn't that he was lonely, though he was, sometimes—he just figured that was a limitation of his human DNA.  So he wracked his brain for another answer, attacking the problem methodically.  Finally, after detailed examination, he came to the conclusion that what appealed to him about making friends was the challenge of overcoming his self-imposed barriers, and the refusal to admit that Manticore might have taken anything from him that he couldn't get back.  And, because he'd disciplined himself to be thorough, he also had to admit he was curious to know what friendship felt like.  Having dissected the problem, he then proceeded to identify potential solutions—all of which would require more time than he had, what with the running and smirking and strategizing and ass-kicking that was part of his daily life.  He'd told himself firmly to forget about it, that he _could do it—he just chose not to._  He'd been done with self-reflection, so he'd been free to repress the fact that it still bothered him.  _Just go on with life, he'd commanded himself, __live it on your own terms, and don't worry about making connections that can only weaken you anyway._  Plenty of time for that when you retire.

When he'd met Max, tussled with her in that dark alleyway, he'd been struck by the similarities between them.  Of course he had intel on her long before that, had an inkling that they might get along if he weren't so interested in collecting the price Manticore had put on her head.  But it hadn't really hit him until they'd been immersed in battle and he'd seen her eyes flash with challenge as he traded barbs with her.  It had occurred to him then, somewhere in a corner of his mind, that Max might be something of a shortcut, an initial test he could pass before going on to more difficult relationships with people who could never fully understand him.  And that might just be worth more than the fifty large Lydecker had promised.

So he asked her to be his partner, telling himself it was idle curiosity, an unexpected chance to pursue a whim. 

When she refused, he took it in stride, buried that curiosity and that drive in the depths of his mind again, and moved on to the next objective.  It had been easy; he excelled at locking things away.  Never mind if they sometimes came back to haunt him, he was still in control.  Besides, it had been worth asking just to smell and feel her anger, see her come within a hair's breadth of baring her teeth and growling at him.  He grinned at the memory.  He had to admit, he admired her temper almost as much as her physical prowess.  At least this way he'd get to see that fire at its highest and hottest, test his skills against someone who mattered for once.  They weren't quite evenly matched, he knew, but she was as close to his physical and mental equal as he was likely to find.

_Unless... a normally-suppressed corner of his mind whispered.  Because the upcoming confrontation had put him in such a good mood, he allowed himself a moment of self-indulgence to dwell on the dream that had kept him going through all those nights of too-easy victories over brainless, spineless thugs.__Unless Manticore is working on an even more advanced series right now, he mused, smiling dreamily.  He could almost see it: souping them up with the latest in gene-splicing technology, pushing them, hardening them, lifting them almost beyond the realm of human comprehension.  And maybe, just maybe, one of these days those little Pinocchios would realize they could be real little boys and girls, and break out of there.  And when they did, he'd be waiting.  Waiting to prove that he could still be leader of the pack—and, more importantly, that he didn't even need the damn pack.  With enemies like that, who would need friends?_

He sighed and rocked back on his heels on the roof, staring up into the rain.  That would be the ultimate test.  But he knew it was probably a long way off, if it happened at all.  For now, the confrontation with Max would be satisfying enough.  He grinned in anticipation, felt the adrenaline start to flow through him, the only drug he craved.  He opened his mouth wide to catch the rain, knowing it was probably infused with acid and pollution, knowing it wouldn't hurt him if it was.  It had a kind of poetic appeal to it, he reflected, two sides of the same coin turning on each other.  Dark and darker, warring for supremacy.  He laughed into the gathering twilight.  _Oh, yes, he thought, snapping his jaws shut like a wolf._  _This is definitely going to be fun._

---------------------

            Max checked her watch.  Twenty-seventeen.  Exactly seven minutes later than the last time she'd checked.  She blew her breath out in a gusty sigh and sat back, arms locked around her knees, looking up at the sky.  She assumed the stars were coming out, though as usual it was difficult to tell through the clouds.  She'd finished checking out the warehouse an hour ago—not much to help or hinder there; it was basically empty.  The wooden pallets that had once stood ceiling-high had long since been cannibalized for firewood.  A few short chains and pieces of circuit board scattered the floor, nothing that could be used as a weapon.  Other than that, it was bare from cement floor to high ceiling.  Preparation complete, she'd wandered restlessly in the streets for a while before coming up to the Needle in an attempt to keep herself from pacing.

            It wasn't working.  Much more of this and she'd forget the danger and pace anyway, and Jasen would find himself in an empty warehouse in a couple of hours with no one to fight.  Even with her enhanced balance, the Space Needle was slippery in the rain.

            She was a little nervous about the upcoming fight—it wasn't every day she faced being dragged back to Manticore—but she'd learned to deal with pre-combat jitters.  She'd prepared herself as well as possible and now there was nothing left to do but wait.  Jasen might have been the newer model, but she had a trick or two up her sleeve.  And the fact that Jasen needed her alive in order to collect his money was one point in her favor; she, on the other hand, had no compunction about kicking his ass right into the afterlife.  Besides, there was still the hope that Logan might come up with something.  But even if he didn't, and it proved to be the difference between her winning and losing, it was a long way between Seattle and Gillette.  Zack had escaped; no reason she couldn't do the same.  Maybe she could even hook up with Brin, help her get out of there, too.  And, she realized, there was enough excitement mixed in with her nervousness to make it bearable.

            So if it wasn't the fight, what was it?  _Oh, come off it, Max, she finally forced herself to admit, with some disgust._  _It's Logan, and you know it._  She'd worried about Original Cindy and Kendra, too, wondered how they might react to their friend being taken off without a word to some psycho military camp for who knew how long.  But that wouldn't last forever.  If she lost and Jasen managed to drag her back to Manticore, someday she'd get out and find them again, show up at their doors in the middle of the night and revel in the looks on their faces.

            But Logan was the one she would have to forget.

            She'd come to the conclusion months ago, when Logan ceased being simply a source of information and started becoming a friend.  Normally, Lydecker wouldn't give a shit about the friendships she'd been weak enough to form on the outside, and thanks to Zack, she had no idea where any of her siblings were; the identity of Eyes Only, though, could be worth something.  If they pulled that information out of her, she knew Logan was as good as dead.  So she'd decided that if somehow they ever managed to throw her back through those huge iron doors into hell, she'd take all her memories of Logan--his eyes reflecting candlelight in the dimness of his penthouse, the single-minded devotion to his work that drove her crazy, the silly grin on his face when she'd emerged from the Jam Pony locker room in the dress she'd stolen for the wedding--she'd take all of that and shove it into the deepest, darkest corner of her mind, lock a bulletproof door and swallow the key.  Ironic, after all Logan had done for her, that the best way she could repay him would be to forget about him completely.

            Making the decision in theory had been one thing.  Staring the actuality in the face, well, that was turning out to be a different story.  She couldn't be sure that her memory would be recoverable, as Zack's had been, so she was looking at the very real possibility of being separated from Logan permanently.  The thought that she couldn't even see him before the fight compounded the problem, and the realization that she might be forced to leave and forget him without even a word of explanation of what he meant to her--that was verging on unbearable.  She was as surprised as anyone to find herself so affected.  She'd told herself a hundred times in the past couple of hours to put it out of her mind, that she'd deal with it later.  But the more she tried to block it out, the more persistently it poked at her, until she was forced to concede that _not dealing with it was actually distracting her more than dealing with it would._

            And _that little realization gave her all the excuse she needed to focus on solving her problem without damaging her pride._  After all, she rationalized, it was all in the interest of getting it out of the way so she could concentrate on the fight.  All she had to figure out now was what to do about it.  Pouring her heart out to him was obviously out of the question; she'd done essentially the same thing before, in front of his uncle's cabin, and that had certainly come back to bite her in the ass.  Nothing more embarrassing than saying a passionate goodbye to a guy for all eternity and then running into him the next day.  No, that definitely wasn't the way to go, especially since she gave herself better odds against Jasen than that--why act like she was going out forever when she had no intention of losing?  She just needed an insurance policy in case everything didn't go as planned; something she could easily take back if she chose.

            She tapped her fingertips against her lips, thinking.  She didn't have many options; going to any of her usual haunts would only get her friends in trouble.  Jasen already knew about Jam Pony, though, so that was safe enough…  From there on in, the solution was obvious.  It would have to be a letter.  She'd sneak into Jam Pony--no one, not even Normal, hung around there after business hours--steal a scrap of paper, and spill her guts on it.  Simple, direct, and to the point.  Then, head clear and heart light, she'd call Logan, get whatever magic key he'd managed to find for her, and waltz off to meet her destiny.

            Streamlined.  Efficient.  No problem.

---------------------

            By the time she dialed Logan's number, she was surrounded by the ashes of discarded scraps of paper and just about frustrated enough to be _glad if she never saw him again._  She'd had no idea writing a simple letter could be so difficult.  At least the damn thing was done, though, neatly sealed and addressed and ready to get the hell out of her life.  She reminded herself that she was supposed to be focusing on the fight now, centered her attention on her breathing and her heartbeat to calm herself while she listened to the phone ring.

            "Hello?" 

            It was Bling's voice.  And the last time he'd answered Logan's phone, the news hadn't been good.  "What's wrong?" she asked immediately.  "Is he all right?"

            "He's fine.  He's just pretty focused on what he's doing.  I don't even think he heard the phone.  I didn't want to bother him unless it was you."

            "Well, I need to talk to you anyway."

            "Yeah?"

            "Yeah.  I left something for you, at Jam Pony.  For him, actually."  She felt her face begin to flush, resolutely ignored it.  The fight with Jasen was starting to look like a picnic compared to all this.  Had she ever been in second grade and asked her friends to pass notes to boys she liked, she would have recognized the feeling immediately.  However, as she hadn't had that privilege, she just knew she couldn't wait until this conversation was over.  "In case something happens to me.  Can you come pick it up tomorrow?"

            "Sure."  She could hear the smile at the edge of his voice, figured she had to respect him for trying to hide it, anyway.  There was an awkward silence.

            "Can I talk to him?"

            "Yeah, sure.  Be careful tonight."

"I will.  Thanks."

She heard Bling's voice, muffled, and then Logan's.  "Max."

            From the way he said it, she knew he hadn't found anything.  Her heart plummeted.

            "Any luck?" she asked quietly.

            "I…"  He couldn't get the words out.

            "It's all right."  She fought to keep her disappointment from her voice.

            "I've been trying, Max."  In fact, he hadn't left his computer in five hours, not since he'd talked to her last.  His eyes and fingers ached, and it seemed like his world had narrowed to that black keyboard and flickering screen.  And now Max's voice, sounding inconceivably far away.  "I just haven't been able to turn anything up.  This guy must be a chameleon; there are hardly any records on him, even from Manticore.  I even tried to find Zack, in case he was close enough to help, but…"  He trailed off with a sigh.

            Max was stunned at his admission, and touched.  She was well aware of the fact that Zack and Logan weren't exactly best buddies; she'd have to be blind to miss the daggers that shot between them whenever they were forced to be in the same room together.  That Logan had swallowed his formidable pride and tried to find her brother meant more to her than almost anything he'd ever done for her.  And she couldn't even say his name.  "Thanks."  It was hopelessly inadequate.

            "For what?" he asked bitterly.  "I didn't--"

            "Bling has something for you," she blurted, desperate to cut him off before he spiraled into guilt.  "In case something happens to me.  Which it won't," she added hurriedly.

            He didn't respond.  Her throat filled with everything she wanted to say, and she stared fixedly at the letter to calm herself.  It was all there, no need to get gushy and say something she might regret.  She schooled her voice into confidence.  "You forget--I'm a genetically enhanced killing machine.  I was made for this sort of thing.  I'll be fine.  Back in time for dinner tomorrow.  You will make me dinner tomorrow, right?"

            He laughed a little, in spite of himself.  "Anything you want."

            "Careful, I have expensive tastes."  A genuine smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

            "I think I can cover it."

There was a pause, awkward and comfortable.  The connection between them was almost palpable.  Finally, Max said reluctantly, "I have to go."

Logan swallowed.  "Where are you meeting him?"

"The warehouse down by Pier 64."

"Good luck."

"Thanks."  She couldn't seem to bring herself to hang up the phone.

Another pause.  Then, as if the words were tearing themselves out of him, "Max, I--"

"Don't," she told him quickly.  "Don't say goodbye.  I'm coming back.  Trust me."

"I do."  He had to.  He couldn't face the thought of her imprisoned at Manticore.

"I have to go," she repeated finally, helplessly.

"All right."  One last pause.  "See you tomorrow, Max."

"Count on it," she replied firmly, and heard the click on the other end.  She realized she was clinging to the phone and forced her fingers to relax.  She waited a moment to collect herself, closed her eyes and thought intently about the rhythm of her heart, the blood flowing through her veins, the air in and out of her lungs.  Then, with a final deep breath, her mind cleared of all distractions, she stepped out into the night.

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OK, sorry this has taken so long.  I got held up by being extremely busy at work, and the advent of baseball season.  (Though at least I'm a Seattle Mariners fan, so it's somewhat related to DA… DA… Seattle… uh, yeah.)  At Nevermore's suggestion (sort of), I spent a little more time with Jasen in this chapter than I was originally planning—I hope it worked out.  Thanks so much for all the reviews—please keep 'em coming, positive or negative; it's just nice to know someone's reading my stuff! 


	7. Battle

By the time she reached the warehouse, Max's body was back on full alert.Her eyes roved ceaselessly and her muscles were ready for instantaneous action.She was a little surprised she hadn't run into Jasen yet; she'd half-expected him to drop down from some rooftop when she was a few blocks away, try for the element of surprise.But there'd been nothing, just the quiet patter of the rain on the streetlamps.She wasn't sure if she should be insulted or relieved.

She hauled open the cheap metal door, and there he was, standing solitary in the center of the open space, the harsh overhead lights shadowing his eyes into darkness.His arms hung loosely at his sides, ready for motion._Well, he gets points for drama, she thought as she shut the door behind her, careful not to turn her back on him._

He checked his watch."Right on time."

"Punctuality's one of my many virtues," she sneered.He grinned back, blue eyes on fire.The banter was tradition, and they both knew it, a cover for surreptitiously checking out an opponent.Max scanned him head to foot, looking for anything out of place or suspicious.No guns, probably, unless he had an ankle holster—she'd have to watch out for that.But the odds were he'd rejected that idea for the same reason she had: too easy to have it used against you in some way, too easy to lose control and lose the fight in an instant.

"Sure you don't want to frisk each other?That has some possibilities."His tone was suggestive, mocking.

"Tempting, but I'll pass.I'd like to keep my food in my stomach for the moment."

She'd approached him slowly, stopped just out of reach, her eyes locked on his.

"Ready?" he asked.

Her quiet response rang with challenge."You have no idea."

And for one moment, they were in perfect accord, feral grins mirroring each other.Slowly, wordlessly, they both sank into defensive postures, feet planted, bodies balanced and loose, hands raised to attack or defend.She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Mark," he whispered--the official command to begin a training skirmish--and lunged at her.

Halfway through the lunge he broke it off, springing sideways onto his hands in a kind of flattened cartwheel, legs slicing through the air._Capoeira, Max's brain whispered, soldier identifying fighting style, but her body was already moving, bracing hands and swinging legs in an opposing arc.They met in midair, calves crashing together, rolled and came to their feet, circling, grinning.Max attacked next, changing the style, hands moving in a blinding succession of punches blocked twisting into backhands blocked until she was threw in a knee to the groin when she hoped he was distracted.His own knee came up to block as he twisted away, braced a hand across her chest and went for a sweep, but she anticipated and backflipped away, landing lightly just out of his reach.Both of them were beginning to breathe the slightest bit harder, and Max felt a fierce joy at the hint of surprise in Jasen's expression as they circled, circled._

But then he was at her again, palms flattened and fingers curled to attack with the ridges of his hands, maybe numb a few muscles.She grabbed and blocked and counterattacked where she could, both of them scoring enough hits to make lips split and limbs ache.Rational thought deserted and instinct reigned.Finally he half-slid through her defenses and caught her with an awkward backfist to the head.Even off-center, the blow was enough to make her blink.Suddenly she felt a trail of fire along her ribs, where her shirt had ridden up.She jumped back automatically, not entirely surprised at the glint of metal in his hand.His pant leg was caught on the edge of that ankle sheath she'd forgotten to watch for.No gun, then, but a knife, and she cursed herself for not seeing it coming even as she marveled again at his speed.

"No weapons?" she spat, holding her ribs.The cut was shallow, but long, and bleeding.

He shrugged, all feigned innocence."Oops.Guess I lied."

He came at her again, and again she blocked as best she could, feeling tiny stings across her shoulders and forearms as she bided her time.Then he put just the tiniest amount too much of his weight behind a lunge and she was ready, swung to the side and caught his arm, using his momentum to throw him away from her.With a little space between them, she reached beneath the waistband of her loose pants to where she'd tied the chain.She'd found it on the way to the warehouse, discarded in an alley, and had a feeling it might come in handy.Once again, Jasen's face reflected pleased surprise as she stretched the silver links in front of her, taut between her hands.

"I lied, too," she told him sweetly, and his short, wild laugh echoed off the walls.

The presence of the weapons escalated the fight to a fever pitch that burned like a slow fire: white-hot, patient, and deadly.Steel rang on steel as the knife slid off of the chain, time and time again.She was bleeding from a dozen small wounds and he stung from well-placed welts, but there was nothing in the world for either of them but survival, the sweep and speed and strength of the dance.Then he lunged at her with the knife and she saw her chance, wrapped the chain tight around his wrist and brought his hand down hard on her upraised knee.The knife skittered across the floor, knocked from his suddenly boneless hand, but just as she felt a thrill of victory his other arm swept under her knee and threw her backwards onto the ground.

Instinct was a fraction of a second too late to cushion her as her head hit the concrete with a sickening crack.Her vision went wild and black, and she felt Jasen's weight on top of her, pinning her legs with his knees and stretching his forearm across her throat as he had the day before in the alley.She struggled, but the combination of the blow to her head and the denial of oxygen to a body desperately in need of it confused her.Suddenly she was back at Manticore, seven years old and terrified, drowning and being beaten at the same time, impossibly small.Her eyes went huge and bottomless with fear, all the memories she thought she'd put behind her surging to the surface to overtake her.Her hand scrabbled desperately for the chain, thrown out of reach in her fall.Her arms flailed, fingers curving into claws, but it was no use.Her vision was beginning to gray.The iron bar across her throat seemed to weigh a thousand pounds.Panic bubbled uncontrollably; she screamed with no voice:_Don't take me back there don't take me don't take me don't take me—_

Then suddenly she felt the weight lifted, thrown to the floor beside her.For a moment she could do nothing more than lie there, taking in huge gulps of air.She rolled on her side, startled to see her opponent convulsing uncontrollably next to her.A small syringe hung from his neck, rapidly becoming dislodged by the jerky disarray of his body.He was still lucid, though, and his eyes fixed fiercely on hers, swimming with defiance and a strange sort of amusement.

Disoriented, still gasping, her gaze darted crazily around the room until she caught sight of a familiar figure in a wheelchair, with what looked like a hollow tube resting in his lap._CO2 powered blowgun, the military corner of her mind babbled automatically, uselessly.He looked horrified, and after a moment she realized it was because of her.He was shouting at her, but she couldn't make out the words.At the sight of him, her world snapped marginally back towards normalcy; she became slightly less Maxie and slightly more Max.But she had a long way yet to go.She shied back as a hand touched her shoulder._

"Easy."Bling's voice was soothing."Come on, Max, we've got to get out of here."

She stared up at him, her brain refusing to function.He tugged at her arm, and Logan's voice penetrated her stupor: she caught the word "Lydecker."

"Come on!"Bling urged her, more forceful now.

"I need to--"On her knees, she moved towards Jasen, who was still shaking bizarrely on the concrete, still watching her with animal eyes.She looked around for the knife, trying without much success to think clearly.

"Max!"Logan was right next to her now.He grabbed her face between his hands and forced her to look at him."There's no time.He's right behind you.We have to get out of here, now."

The next time Bling pulled, she rose to her feet.She thought she could hear engines closing in, distant but approaching.Humvees.If she could just _think…But there was no time.Logan grabbed her hand."Max!" he shouted."Now!"_

"All right," she agreed finally, and stumbled towards the exit.Later, she would have sworn she felt Jasen's eyes on her all the way to the door.

The engines were louder now, closing fast to the north.Max all but threw herself into Logan's Aztec, pulling him in next to her in a last burst of adrenaline.Bling collapsed Logan's chair in a single practiced move and slid it in after them before diving into the driver's seat and gunning the engine.The gray Aztec, running with no headlights, slipped out of sight just as the first humvees swung around the corner, intent on the warehouse.

Max kept a vigilant watch out the back window for the first half mile or so until she'd assured herself they'd escaped unnoticed.Satisfied, she had turned around and was settling herself in the seat when suddenly all her energy seemed to go out of her in one abrupt rush.She sagged against Logan, too exhausted and confused to speak.

"Here," he said, sliding over and easing her down until her head was pillowed on his leg.She looked up at him gratefully, and he was immensely relieved to see that most of the chilling wildness had receded from her dark eyes, replaced by simple fatigue.Her eyelids drifted shut, her breathing became deep and regular.Silence blanketed the car as Logan toyed gently with the ends of her hair and stared out into the darkness.

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Fifteen armed men in head-to-toe black burst through the door of the warehouse, brandishing semi-automatic weapons.And all fifteen of them wore identical, comical expressions of surprise to find themselves focusing their state-of-the-art laser sights on empty air.Heads swiveled in disbelief.A knife glinting red at the edges and a length of chain were the only evidence of any occupants other than rats.Amazement faded into dread as they exchanged nervous glances, wondering which one of them was going to take the fall for this one.

"Search the area!" barked the commander, but he'd been working with Lydecker for years.He cursed inwardly.A few seconds' lead was all an X-5 needed.Still, he had to go through the motions.

A hundred yards off the end of the pier, cloud-filtered moonlight illuminated the outline of a dark head.White teeth flashed briefly in the night before the figure disappeared under the water.

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Whew!That was tough to write.Thanks very much to my boyfriend for helping "choreograph" the fight scene…I'm curious as to how it sounded to you all, though--believable?Too vague?Too specific?Worthy of the climactic meeting between these two epic foes? :)


	8. Loose Ends

Max opened her eyes by reflex and immediately wished she hadn't."Ow," she mumbled weakly, squeezing them shut again.She was sure they were both ringed with various shades of purple.She heard a low, sympathetic chuckle next to her and felt the pressure of a hand on hers.

"Sorry."Logan's voice was both amused and contrite.She felt him shift, sensed the harsh light receding slowly.She raised one eyelid to a tentative half-mast.Deciding it was safe, she opened both eyes fully, focusing on Logan in the pleasant dimness.It was still dark outside, though she had no idea what time it might be.She was lying on his couch, which was nowhere near the light switch, and he was still holding her hand.

"Wow.How'd you do that?" she asked, her voice scratching painfully out of her bruised throat.

"Remote control," Logan replied, almost sheepishly.

"Bet that was a hit with the girls," she managed.

"Worked on you, didn't it?"He'd dimmed his wicked grin, too, in deference to her weakened state, but couldn't contain it entirely.

"Hmmm," was her only response."Where's Bling?"

"Went home.He said midnight rescues were above and beyond the call of his duties as my physical therapist, and we owe him one."

She lifted a shoulder, trying a small smile.When her lips didn't crack or fall off or anything, she expanded it into her characteristic grin."Fair enough."

"Want some tea?" he asked her."Your throat's gotta be killing you."

She nodded, for once in her life content to rest and be served.Not that she had much of a choice; she wasn't sure she could tell where sore muscles left off and bruises began.She probed the inside of her cheek gently with her tongue, feeling the imprint of her teeth, trying to ignore the cuts burning up her arms and along her ribs._No weapons, my ass, she thought wryly.Though she had to admit that on some level she would've been disappointed if he __hadn't cheated.After all, it was a twisted sort of compliment to her abilities that he was looking for that extra edge._

In any case, any major movement was pretty much out of the question.At the same time, she felt oddly cleansed, the exhausted invigoration of having put in a long, hard day of purely physical labor.She'd pushed her body to its limits, and there was a kind of primal satisfaction in that knowledge.Primal satisfaction aside, it still hurt like a bitch, but she'd take what she could get.

"Thanks."She gratefully accepted the tea Logan offered, sweetened with honey and lemon to soothe her throat.She warm liquid slid down like a healing balm, and by the time she was halfway through the mug she felt up to speaking again."So what happened back there?I thought I was on my way to meet my maker."

Logan snorted."Do you realize you're one of the few people in the world who could say that and mean it literally?"

"Part of my charm, isn't it?Seriously, what was that shit?"

He shrugged."Something I'd gotten hold of a while back.It's a serum that stimulates the reflexes.I'd picked it up for obvious reasons."He gestured at his legs."It's meant to be used selectively, in small doses, specific muscles.I didn't think of what a whole bunch of it could do—especially to genetically enhanced reflexes—until it was around eleven and I was pretty much out of options.It's amazing what abject panic can do for the creativity."Unconsciously, he reached for her hand again, as if to reassure himself she was really there.Because it felt good, she pretended not to notice.

"Abject panic?Didn't have faith in my superhuman powers, huh?"

"Well, I figured a little insurance couldn't hurt."

"How did you know Lydecker was on his way?"

"Got a tip from a source that something major and military was going down near the waterfront.It didn't take much to connect the dots, and when I heard a report of black humvees—well, subtlety isn't exactly Lydecker's strong point."

"That's an understatement."She laughed, then trailed off.She suddenly realized he'd been staring at her since he returned with her tea--she wasn't completely sure he'd even blinked--and now she found herself trapped in those impossibly blue eyes, unable to look away.

"What are you staring at?I must look horrible," she tried, but couldn't seem to get her usual bite behind it.

He just kept staring and smiling."You do.But I'm still glad to see you._Very glad to see you."His voice was husky with barely-repressed emotion._

_What the hell, Max thought.__I deserve a break—it's been a rough few days.So, for the first time in her life, she didn't try to dam it up, just let the warmth flow through her veins like sunlight."Back at you," she replied, and even through bruises and scratches and dried blood, the sheer brightness of her answering smile stunned him.They sat there in silence, frozen.By the time he got his breath back, the moment was over.He saw a shadow pass over her features._

"What?" he asked, almost relieved.The momentary connection had been so intense as to be frightening, and he wasn't entirely sorry it was over.Direct exposure to full sunlight was best in small doses.

"I failed to accomplish the objective."Her eyes went distant."I couldn't finish the job."

"Max, you made the right decision.A few more seconds and Lydecker would have had you both."

She focused on Logan again."If I'd killed him, it would've been clean.Now either he's out there, still after me and the rest of my brothers and sisters, or I've been a part of sending him back to Manticore.Either way, it's hard to feel like I won."

Every response that came to his mind was a platitude, a cliché.Finally, he shrugged."You did your best," he said simply.He knew that it was the first time in a long time, maybe ever, that her best hadn't been quite good enough.Personally, he liked her better for it, paradoxically thought that her weakness made her stronger--there could never be achievement if there was never challenge.But she'd find her own meaning.

She nodded slowly.Then, her gaze flickering back to him, "Thanks.Again."

He smiled, oddly gentle, offering what he could."Anytime."

After that, there seemed to be nothing more to say.They sat motionless and silent in the half-light, fingers intertwined and forgotten, lost in their separate thoughts.

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In the morning, while Logan was occupied in the kitchen, Max heard a key in the front door.As soon as she saw that it was Bling, she felt her face begin to flush.

As usual, she decided to brazen it out."Hey," she greeted him, distantly pleased that her throat was healing already.

"Hey.You're looking better than you did last night."

"Well, I pretty much didn't have any place to go but up."

He crossed the room to her, holding out a piece of paper.Her letter."Here.I thought you might want this back, so I picked it up for you."

She snatched at it, ignoring the way her muscles protested at the sudden movement.Something that had been tap-dancing in her stomach all morning seemed to calm as she shoved the tattered paper in her pocket.She'd felt naked knowing it was out there."Thanks."She cleared her throat nervously, instantly regretted it as she felt fire along her windpipe._Real smooth, Max, she berated herself as she tried to swallow gently and avoid Bling's eyes._

"You should tell him anyway, Max."Bling's voice was quiet, with just a hint of reprimand."He has a right to know._Before it's too late to do anything about it."_

"Mmm," was the best she could come up with, staring fixedly at her feet, stretched out on the couch in front of her.

The sound of voices brought Logan in from the kitchen, wiping his hands on the towel in his lap."Hey, Bling.Want to join us for Eggs Benedict?"

"Sure."

Suddenly, looking at Bling, Logan remembered something Max had said to him the night before.In his concern for her, it had gone completely out of his head until now."Hey, Max—what was it that Bling was supposed to have for me?"

Max refused to let her eyes anywhere near Bling's face as she shrugged, tried to sound casual.Her fingers flexed on the paper that seemed to be burning a hole in her pocket."Just the keys to my baby," she improvised."I wanted to make sure it had a good home."

Logan raised his eyebrows in mock surprise."Wow.I'm honored."

She slanted him that saucy half-grin, relieved he'd bought her story."Well, don't get a big head about it."

"I'm sure you'll keep my ego well-trimmed," he shot back."Come on, Bling, the princess needs her rest."

Max stuck her tongue out at him, but her smile faded almost as soon as Logan turned his back.She felt vaguely guilty.It didn't help that her augmented hearing picked up Bling's almost imperceptible sigh as he followed Logan into the kitchen.

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Normal was yelling her name again.Persistently.In light of recent events, everything in her regular life seemed just the slightest bit surreal.Delivering packages seemed even more pointless than usual when she'd been fighting for her life a few nights before.At the same time, her friends, the people who meant something to her, seemed carved in high relief, brighter and just generally _more than usual.The contrast was unsettling, to say the least.But she was doing her best to readjust.Finally, she decided she'd better answer Normal before she lost her patience and decked him._

"What?" she shouted back irritably over the dull roar of activity that always seemed to fill Jam Pony.Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed he was waving a letter at her.

"I got three more minutes on the clock, Normal, I'm not going out on another run," she told him, preparing to brush by him.

He caught her shoulder, blithely unaware she could've broken his hand six different ways if she'd felt like making the effort."Your ass is still mine for those three minutes, so you'd go if I told you to, but as it happens, you're in luck.This is for you."He held out the envelope.

She took it, turning it over to check for a postmark as Normal droned something about not receiving personal mail at work.The envelope was blank except for her name and the Jam Pony address.Frowning, she tore the seal open and moved away from Normal, who turned the fire hose of his tirade onto the nearest bystander without missing a beat.

The handwriting was neat and just the slightest bit cramped.

_Max, it read._

_Sorry I couldn't stick around longer, but I'm sure you understand.You can imagine how surprised our good friend Deck was to find that no one hung around for his post-combat family reunion.Though when I told him to pick you up there, I expected I'd be long gone--it's just too fun to play with him, make him think he's getting close and then take off.But I have to admit, I hadn't planned on chemical warfare.That was some fucked-up shit your friend pumped into me, whatever it was.Fortunately I'm the resourceful type.Anyway, Deck was pissed off enough to call off our little agreement, so this job suddenly became unprofitable.But not to worry, he'll get over it--he always does.Maybe I'll check out some of the other fish in the X-5 sea, see if that'll tempt him.But of course you'll always be my favorite, Maxie.Keep an eye out—I'll be in touch._

_ _

_Jasen_

The noise of Jam Pony faded into the background as Max stared at the words.He'd escaped, then.At first, all she could think was, _How the fuck did he get out of that one? Admiration was as reluctant as it was undeniable.__ Then she felt one shadow of guilt lift as another descended.She'd let him escape, to hunt her siblings, to hunt her.And though she might claim to be amoral, she knew he was the real deal.A chill played down her vertebrae._

"You all right, my sista?"She looked up to see Herbal's concerned brown eyes fixed on her.She shook herself, forced a smile.

"Yeah.Fine."And she was.Or would be.Folding the paper, she shoved it in her back pocket, tossed the rest of her belongings into her backpack.Emotions swirled, a messy mix of relief, disappointment, fear, anticipation, too many and too tangled to sort out.So she wasn't the biggest, baddest, leanest and meanest anymore—damn if the sun didn't keep on rising just the same.And the funny thing was, even though Lydecker and even Zack had always taught them that friendships were tantamount to weakness, she was beginning to wonder if that was true.They'd certainly come in handy last night, during and after the battle.And it wouldn't exactly be the first time she'd found a few holes in Don's Wit and Wisdom.She shrugged, let the idea slide away to percolate on its own.Tomorrow would come, there wasn't anything she could do about that.All she could do was try her best to prepare for it.

_But it was__ fun, __wasn't it? that tiny voice in her mind whispered.And, in spite of the pain and fear and uncertainty and outright panic, she couldn't entirely disagree.She shook her head ruefully.__God, I must be crazy.A small smile played on her lips as she pushed her bike out the door and headed towards home._

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Well, there it is--what did you think?I'm dying for feedback, positive or negative--this took much longer than I planned to write, and now that it's done I want to know how it all turned out!I may even go back and change a few things, who knows… but for those of you who made it this far, thanks for reading, thanks **very much for the reviews, and I hope you enjoyed it!Sorry for any wonky spacing in here, I'm not too clear on the intricacies of html…**


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